


What If

by imnotanauthor



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Gen, Gun Violence, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 22:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotanauthor/pseuds/imnotanauthor
Summary: What if T.J. was the one with the gun AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for @Caithycat for being amazing and also for beta-ing

T.J. kicked off hard, speeding toward the curb. This was his 7th try and he was confident he was going to land the kickflip this time.

He ollied off, kicked, and tried to hit that sweet spot that would make the board flip the way he wanted.

Instead, the board landed sideways with T.J.’s feet landing awkwardly on either side.

Why did that keep happening?!

T.J. glared at his board and went back to grab his water bottle out of his bag. He reached up to quickly tug his earlobe, making sure his black stud was still there. He had just gotten pierced 4 days ago and wasn’t quite used to it yet, always fearing it would disappear.

As he drank, he took a look around the park. It wasn’t very busy, only 3 groups hanging around from what he could see.

He could also see the one boy hanging out with two girls and he seemed to be glancing at him every time he took a sip of water.

T.J. smirked when he lowered his water bottle and caught him, then chuckled when the boy tried to play it off by looking towards the sky.

T.J. stopped when he realized what he was doing. He was laughing at a funny moment. That’s all. And of course, he would be flattered about being admired. Who wouldn’t?

He shook his head. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was landing this kickflip. He grabbed his board, went back to his starting point, took a deep breath, and pushed off once again.

Just when he was about to reach the curb, a large pickup truck swerved into the parking lot and blew its horn loudly, scaring T.J. enough to throw him off his balance and fall, luckily, into the grass.

“Hey, bro! Good thing I honked or you coulda hurt yourself there.”

His brother hopped out and quickly wrapped one of his large arms around his neck and started squeezing as he laughed with his friends and spun around carelessly pulling T.J. along by his neck.

In the middle of his struggles, T.J. noticed the boy from earlier was watching his brother’s torment with an obvious frown, his brows deeply furrowed.  
T.J. felt his anger sharply rise. Fuck that kid and his friends. He probably had a perfect life with the perfect family and perfect grades. Fuck that! He didn’t need this kid’s pity.

“Get OFF of me!” T.J. finally gave his brother a shove hard enough to escape. He went to his forgotten backpack and put it on as quickly as he could and stormed off into the woods, making sure to give the finger to anyone who could see it as he left.

-

It was a good 10-minute hike through the woods to reach the cliff, but it was the only place T.J. felt certain he was alone and far enough from everyone else to do whatever he wanted. He sighed in relief when he saw the familiar edge and quickly put his backpack down. It had gotten heavier during the trek, but he had refused to slow down. He opened it and took out the small watermelon he had hidden inside. He took a quick glance around and found a stump near the edge of the forest but close enough to the cliff for him to feel comfortable. He quickly set the watermelon on the stump and made sure it was steady. Once he felt confident he went back to his backpack and took out the gun he had hidden in a secret pocket he made. He felt the familiar rush of power and relief when he felt the cold metal slide into place against his palm and he gently rested his finger on the trigger.

Smirking now, T.J. swaggered up to the watermelon, imagining what his brother's face would look like scrunched up with fear.

“Yeah, not so tough now are you, bro?” T.J. asked the watermelon. “Turns out bullets beat muscle. Or do you want to try and test that theory?”

T.J. raised the gun and pointed it at the watermelon, his fantasy starting to take over. His imaginary brother now started to cry. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He went up to the watermelon and furiously hit it with the butt of the gun, but was careful not to break it yet. He had only brought one and he had to make it count.

He took a few steps away, smirking as some of his anger dissipated, but not all of it. Who else had wronged him recently?

He was quickly able to conjure his algebra teacher tied up in a chair with a gag. His teacher was trying to yell something around the rope in his mouth and T.J. knew he was saying “You don’t know the answer? But I just told you!” His anger returned just as furiously as it was when he was still at the park when he remembered what his least favorite teacher had done last week.

“I’m not fucking stupid!” he yelled at the watermelon. Flashes of his classmates sniggering at him while he struggled to answer a question during class flashed through his memory as he raised the gun and aimed it at the watermelon. The laughter growing louder as he poured all of his anger into his finger and furiously squeezed the trigger.

“Oh my God!” A voice suddenly shouted from nearby. The kid from earlier had just come out of the woods. Way too close to the watermelon.

In his surprise, T.J. tried to drop the gun. But it was too late, he had already pulled the trigger.

The next few seconds happened very quickly, but he was able to see everything happen as if it had been in slow motion. Instead of facing the watermelon, the gun was now pointed towards the kid and the loud bang that always gave him comfort now caused the worse dread and panic he had ever felt. He watched as the kids face went from shock to absolute fear before he looked down to the spot of red on his shoulder that quickly spread down the sleeve of his shirt.

Then he dropped.

T.J. rushed over to the boy. The closer the got, the more blood spread until he was able to reach him and press down hard on the wound.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t-” T.J. tried to apologize through his tears. What did he do?!

The boy was looking at him now but seemed to be struggling to breathe.

“H-Hey t-t-tell me your name, what’s- what’s y-your name?” T.J. stuttered as he reached for his phone to call 9-1-1, making sure to keeps his eyes locked on the other boy’s.

“Cy-, C-,” he furrowed his brow and took a deep stuttering breath, “Cyrus.”

-

As soon as the ambulance took Cyrus away, T.J. took off into a sprint until he reached the road and hopped on his skateboard, recklessly speeding towards the hospital. He was still crying and quickly fell from his carelessness, scraping his chin and arm in the process.

T.J. quickly got up and brushed off his injuries. He took a deep breath and nodded. He didn’t have time for self-pity. He  _had_ to get to that hospital. He wiped his tears grabbed his board and resumed his speedy pace.

-

T.J. came to an abrupt realization when he sped walked into the waiting room and saw a group of people already waiting there, including the two girls he saw with the boy before. They scrunched their eyebrows in confusion, no doubt remembering him from the display his brother put on earlier, before their eyes widened in what looked like shock. It was an adult, however, who went up to him.

“Are you okay?!” She asked, sounding quite alarmed. T.J. noticed her downward gaze and looked down to see he was covered in random patches of blood as well as his injured arm.

T.J. breath quicked. What was he gonna do? What could he say? He just needed to know if the kid was okay.

“I-,” The ladies brows started to twist in a way he’d seen before. “I… found him.”

“Oh! Thank you!” She quickly pulled him into a hug that made him feel sick to his stomach. “You saved him!” He couldn’t bring himself to hug her back, but she didn’t seem to mind, pulling away only to continue her compliments.

She hadn’t mentioned how he was doing yet, and the compliments pouring out of her mouth only made him feel more and more terrible.  He was going to have to interrupt. “How is he? Is he gonna be okay?”

The lady sighed sadly. “They’ve rushed him into surgery already, but the doctor told us he doesn’t seem to have any extra complications, so the surgery should be relatively simple. He’s quite sure he’ll make a full recovery.”

T.J. expected to feel relief, but only felt marginally better. He couldn’t believe what he did. How could he fuck up so badly?

“He’s going to be in surgery for a few hours and then he’ll be recovering for the night, so you should go home and recover yourself. You went through something too you know.”

T.J. felt tears well up and nodded. He searched his mind for what to say. What could he say to the mother of the kid he shot?

He didn’t deserve to speak to her.

So, he turned on his heels and walked the whole way home.

-

The next day at school was spent in a haze. He hadn’t slept at all last night and he spent every minute waiting to hear his name calling him to the principal’s office, or imagining Cyrus’ scared face and hearing the loud bang.

But on the outside nothing changed. Everyone was acting like they always did, only today’s gossip was about how apparently some kid in the 7th grade got shot.

-

Immediately after school, T.J. skated right back to the hospital and raced up to the room he remembered from yesterday.

He looked in the crack in the door and saw the lady from yesterday was there. He decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up from his ride, but when he came out, he saw the two girls from before had just shown up and was currently entering the room.

What was he doing? What was he even going to say? All he knew was he had to speak to him. Privately. And it didn’t look like that was gonna happen anytime soon. So he left, trying to think of how he would be able to catch him alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be longer :P


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys!

After another sleepless night and another class that went unheard, T.J. couldn’t take it anymore. He asked to go to the bathroom and walked straight out of the school’s front door. He had to see Cyrus. Now. No more excuses.

-

When he reached the now familiar hallway, T.J. finally felt an emotion stronger than the constant self-hatred he’d had for the past 2 days. The nervousness crept up more and more with each step closer to the door. The same questions from before becoming increasingly valid once again. What was he planning on saying? I’m sorry wasn’t nearly enough and didn’t even touch how he actually felt about what he did.

He took a peek in the window and found the kid literally twirling his thumbs.

He smiled a bit at the sight and it soothed his nerves instantly. He was still scared, but he knew what he needed to do now.

T.J. knocked and poked his head in, waiting to see the response his presence got.

Cyrus did nothing much more than raise his eyebrows, sitting up as he greeted him. “Oh, hey. I thought I might see you eventually. Or, hoped I guess.”

“You, _hoped_ to see me?” T.J. asked as he walked in and closed the door. He could not think of a single reason for Cyrus to want to see him.

“Yes… I think we should talk.”

What? He wanted to talk? Why? About what? T.J. knew he should have been yelled at days ago and yet nothing, and now he wants to talk?

????

T.J. couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“Why would you want to talk to me? I should be in jail! I almost killed you!”

“... But you didn’t mean to.”

T.J. froze. He wasn’t expecting to hear that. He hadn’t even thought that.

“You should sit down,” Cyrus said pointing to the armchair by his bed.

T.J. silently took a seat, now confused. This conversation had already gone in a completely different direction than he was expecting.

As soon as he sat T.J. could feel the weight of his entire body, completely sinking into the chair.

“Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“You’re asking me if _I’m_ okay?” T.J. looked and could see similar eye bags and slightly slowed movement in the other boy. “You don’t look like you’ve gotten much sleep either.” And that was his fault too.

Cyrus said nothing, just shrugged with a little sad smile.

T.J. turned and looked down, shaking his head at himself and unconsciously reaching up to tug at his earring.

“Um, what’s your name?”

Oh, yeah. How would he know?

“T.J.”

“Nice to meet you T.J. I’m Cyrus. Cyrus Goodman.”

Part of T.J. wanted to blurt out that he already knew that, but he appreciated what Cyrus was doing too much to ruin it.

Just then, Cyrus reached over for a handshake, of all things, making his hospital gown shift enough to expose the large gauze bandage that covered the wound on his collarbone. It was surrounded by a circle of purple bruising, not large enough to hide.

Cyrus noticed his gaze and quickly tried to pull his arm back, but T.J. quickly grabbed it, to both of their surprise.

T.J. was suddenly overwhelmed with a much stronger wave of emotion than usual. He couldn’t hold it back this time.

“I am **so** sorry Cyrus. I-” The tears he didn’t know he had choking his words. “I- Wh-”

He didn’t know what he wanted to say, couldn’t express the feeling he had every time he thought of what he’d done and nearly had done.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

T.J. gritted his teeth and shook his head. It wasn’t okay, nothing about this was okay.

To T.J.’s surprise, Cyrus swapped their arms and grabbed his instead.

“It is. Right now, in this moment. It’s okay. I’m here, and you’re here, and right now, were both okay. Just breath for a second.”

T.J. listened to Cyrus’ soothing voice, following his directions. He was right. He shouldn’t be crying to the one he hurt anyway.

He hadn’t realized how long he had his eyes closed until he struggled to open them. Wow. He had never felt this tired before.

T.J. sighed and tried to get all off his thoughts and feelings into something that could possibly translate to an english sentence.

“There is **nothing** I can say to really make this okay. And I will never forgive myself for what I did to you. But… is it okay if I come see you tomorrow?”

To his surprise, Cyrus perked up a bit.

“Sure! Oh, but… there was something I wanted to say too, but I guess they're more like conditions.”

“Conditions?”

“T.J.,” Cyrus looked more serious than a middle-schooler ever should. “Promise me that you will **never** touch a gun again.”

“Done.” T.J. didn’t even have to think about it. He didn't even want to look at another gun at this point.

Cyrus smiled brightly at his response. “Great! Uhh, what was the other one?” Cyrus asked himself.

“Oh!” Cyrus suddenly looked a bit guilty, but still showed his seriousness as he continued. “You have to tell your parents what happened.”

“... Done.”

T.J. had hesitated for a moment, but in that moment, he knew he wouldn't deny Cyrus anything.

“Really? That easy?”

“Cyrus…” T.J. sighed, tears starting to well up once more. His emotions were in control in his exhausted state, not strong enough to fight these strong waves of emotion that came with such a serious situation. “I deserve so much worse than whatever my parents can do.”

He looked back to where he knew the bandage was hidden, and under that, the reason that Cyrus was in the hospital in the first place. Because of what happened and what almost happened. All because he actually thought a gun could make him feel better. Could give him the power for once. The power to do what? To… to…

“You almost… You could’ve-”

The longer he looked at the bandage the more the red spot he knew to lie underneath clouded his vision. He heard the loud bang, followed by Cyrus’ gasps, the bright blood starting to spread until it was all he could see.

T.J. jumped out of the chair suddenly, realizing he was about to start a pity party in front of the one person who was actually hurt. He quickly sniffled, trying to force his tears back inside and wiped whichever ones managed escaped.

“Uh, I’ll tell my parents as soon as I get home, promise.” He grabbed his bag and started out the door.

“It’s okay for you to cry you know.”

T.J. froze in his tracks, surprised to hear those words being said behind him. Shocked, he turned his head around to look at the boy on the bed. He had never heard a guy tell another guy to cry before. At least, not anyone he knew.

“You went through something too, you know,” Cyrus continued.

T.J. couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. “You know, I think your mom said the exact same thing.”

He was surprised to see the boy blush slightly.

“Therapist parents, what can you do?” Cyrus shrugged, nonchalantly. “But that just means that I give good advice that you should follow.”

T.J. smiled a little. He couldn’t believe this kid was actually trying to comfort him right now, telling him he was allowed to cry for his sins.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. See you tomorrow, T.J.” Cyrus smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO Andi Mack is finally coming back!!!

T.J. felt an odd sense of calm as he walked home. Or, maybe it was a sort of numbness. Either way, it was an improvement over the non-stop racing of his thoughts swirling with various loud BOOMS and a watery wheezing gasp that had been plaguing him on repeat in the past couple of days.

When he got home he went straight to the dining room table, took off his backpack, sat in his usual seat in the middle, then locked his eyes on the front door. His promise to Cyrus was the only thing on his mind.

-

T.J. had been trying his hardest to keep from laying his head on the table, his eyes were drooping when he finally heard the tale-tell noise of his father’s car pulling into the driveway. His heart leapt in his throat, suddenly wide awake, as he suddenly fully realized what he was about to have to say to his parents. How he had found dad’s gun. How he had been playing with it like some kind of toy to play out his immature fantasies. How those fantasies had become reality in the worst way possible, and everything inside him froze in fear.

But in the brief moment between the jingle of keys and the soft click of the lock, T.J. saw Cyrus’ soft brown eyes, looking at him with such wisdom for someone so young, and he could hear the gentle strength in Cyrus’ voice as he only demanded one thing from him. And in that instant, the calm from earlier returned. He deserved more than whatever was coming to him. Talking to his parents was nothing compared to the fear he himself had caused. To a boy who obviously deserved nothing but the best, but nearly had nothing.

The door cracked open and he sat up and flicked at his piercing, steeling himself for what was about to come, a slight sense of relief mixed in with his anxiety when he finally saw his dad’s face.

-

To say he was grounded was an understatement. After a couple of hours filled with nothing but yelling, T.J. had finally broken down into tears. His parents’ shame only heightened his own, until it all came spilling out. His mother had held him, and even though it helped calm him, he knew he didn’t deserve to be comforted.

That’s why, when his father demanded that he take anything with a screen or cord be brought to the attic, he did so gratefully. Each item he carried up the stairs and dropped off felt like a small weight being lifted off his chest, until finally his room was clear and he felt like he could breathe again.

-

T.J. entered the hospital again, but it was strangely quiet. T.J. barely noticed, hospitals were hardly noisy anyway. He already knew where he was headed and nothing else mattered.

When he reached the room he knew by heart, he opened the door and Cyrus smiled that slightly goofy smile at him, and for once, T.J. smiled back.

But then Cyrus’ face morphed into one of fear as he slowly looked down, and T.J.’s heart sank. Cyrus was never supposed to look like that again. That horrible mixture of lost confusion and absolute panic. T.J. felt that same feeling build quickly in himself as he noticed he felt something familiar in his hand.  He started to hyperventilate as he looked down too, and saw the gleam of shiny metal.

His heart seized and he tried to get rid of the offending weight as fast as possible.

**BANG**

-

“NO!” T.J. sat up in his bed and frantically looked around.

It was dark. And blank. Just walls and furniture.

Taking in his empty room, he panted quietly and willed his heart to slow down.

Everything was okay.

Cyrus was still in the hospital and was due to leave any day now, and he had no clue or desire to know where his father had re-hidden his gun.

He laid back down as his heart calmed but his mind raced. Because everything was not okay. He had shot Cyrus, and no matter what the boy said, there was no way that it wouldn’t impact the rest of his life in some way. And all he had done to make up for it was put his TV one floor above his head.

T.J. wished he had never picked up the gun in the first place. His brother had actually been the one to show him where it was, when had made T.J. be lookout when he and his friends decided to shoot bottles and cans one night. It looked like fun, and it made him curious. So, he snuck out one day and shot a tree deep in the forest. He only took one shot, but in that one shot, he had felt a rush of power that was indescribable. Seeing what one bullet could do to a huge tree and feeling the kickback in his hands that reinforced how strong he suddenly became by twitching one finger.

But it was that one day. That day that his brother found out that he had found out that T.J. scratched one of his CD’s and punched him once, swiftly in the gut, making him drop instantly, curling into a ball. He felt so weak at that moment, all he could remember was the time he had felt most powerful. Like nothing could stop him.

And nothing did. Nothing stopped that bullet from piercing Cyrus. Nothing he did could stop the slow uncontrollable leak of blood that kept Cyrus alive from spreading all over Cyrus’ shirt, and the dirt, and T.J.’s hands.

But at least he couldn’t play his PS4 for a while. T.J. rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. He had to do something.

-

T.J. walked down the hallway to the unfortunately familiar room, but for the first time he felt light, a determination filled him and made him walk with purpose.

“T.J.? Shouldn’t you be at school?” Cyrus asked as soon as he walked in. T.J. took him in, noticing that he looked better rested, and had some more color in his face.

“Don’t worry, it’s just lunch, and... this couldn’t wait.”

Cyrus still looked conflicted, and T.J. smiled a little. “I’ll go right back to school, okay? Promise.”

Cyrus returned the smile and patted the chair by his bed. “Well, I’m definitely not gonna turn down some company in this place.”

T.J. felt a twinge of guilt at the reminder of why Cyrus was there in the first place but used it to refuel his determination. He had thought about it all night and he knew this was the only way he could possibly make it up to Cyrus. For almost taking his life.

T.J. took a slow breath as nerves suddenly sprang up. He cleared his throat, “So…”

He looked at Cyrus’ kind eyes and patient smile and bit his lip. He took another deep breath and slowly pulled at his earring.

“You do that a lot you know?”

“Huh?”

“Your piercing,” Cyrus pointed out and blushed slightly. “It looks good on you by the way.”

T.J. smirked a little. “Thanks. My dad grounded me, but it was worth it.”

“Well, I like it.” Cyrus blushed a little more and played with his sheets a little.

T.J. felt his heart warm at the sight and he finally said what was on his mind. “Okay, so… last night I told my parents what happened. They yelled and yelled and they grounded me and they took my skateboard away, but... I shot you, Cyrus.” T.J. saw Cyrus’ eyebrows jump up in surprise, and held up his hand when he saw that the boy was about to speak, most likely to reassure him again. “I shot you. I had a gun, a real gun, and I knew what it could do. Do to someone. And that’s why I was playing with it in the first place.” He looked down guiltily, unable to look at Cyrus as he continued. “You almost died, and I could have so easily taken your life, man. And now that I’ve met you, like really met you, I really get what a fuck up that would’ve been. ‘Cause you’re, like, the nicest dude I’ve ever met, and you’re one of those people who make the world better, or whatever.” T.J. heard the sheets ruffle and looked up. Cyrus was gripping the sheets tightly up to his chest, and his eyes looked a little glossy.

T.J. made sure to look Cyrus in the eye as he continued. “And I almost took that away forever. But… you lived. And you were still so nice to me.” T.J. took one last breath. This was it.

“I hate my brother. He hurts everyone and anyone and laughs about it, and I didn’t realize it, but... I was turning into him. He made me want to hurt whatever I could, ‘cause I could never hurt him, at least not as much as he could hurt me. So… I think that if you hadn’t been there to, like, try and cheer me up or whatever… maybe this would have happened later anyway, but when it was too late and I didn’t care who I hurt.” Cyrus gasped quietly and T.J. rushed to finish before his nerves overtook him as he knew the depth of what he was about to say. “So, I swear my life to you, Cyrus. Like, whatever you need me for, I’ll be there for you.”

T.J. did his best to keep his eyes on Cyrus so he could see how committed he was to this.

“T.J…..” Cyrus said quietly then stopped, his brows furrowed and apparently at a loss for words.

“And it’s not like I’m going to stalk you now or something, if you don’t want me around I get it, but I’ll make sure you always know where to find me, you know, and if you do want me around then I will be. Like a permanent I.O.U.”

Cyrus bit his lip and relaxed his grip on the sheets. “T.J. you don’t have to do this, it was an accident, and… you might not even like future me.”

T.J. leaned back in the chair, feeling true relief for the first time when Cyrus didn’t outright reject his idea. “Well, future you can’t get much worse than present you, right? So I’m not worried. You are kind of a present presently anyway.” Cyrus smiled hard at his wordplay, his cheeks coloring a little once again. When T.J. felt another wave of lightness as he smiled back instead of the usual guilt, he knew he was doing the right thing and could never go back on his word.

Cyrus’ smile faded as his hands twitched in the sheets again and he started twisting his lips to the side. T.J. frowned, he looked nervous. “Uh, what if…,” Cyrus started. “Um, what if, in the future, you don’t agree with my… uh.. lifestyle.”

T.J.’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Lifestyle? Who has a lifestyle? 

“Oh.”

T.J.'s eyes widened and his face went blank. The memory hit him hard and fast, that technically the first time he had seen Cyrus was when the other boy had been so very obviously checking him out.

Cyrus still looked nervous as he waited for T.J. to say something. But after his realization there was nothing. None of the weird guilt or slight anger he had felt the at the time, or whenever the subject would come up in the past. He couldn’t possibly feel that way about Cyrus now.

“It doesn’t matter to me how you live your life, as long as you get to live it.” T.J. shrugged. “I mean…,” he was going to say he wasn’t about to go waving rainbow flags everywhere, but then immediately realized that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Cyrus at this point. “If you want me to go to one of those shirtless party parades and yell ‘gay rights!’ with you, then I‘m down,” he finished instead, smiling when he heard Cyrus’ snort.

A nurse knocked on the door, and T.J. suddenly realized how much time had actually passed, and knew he had to leave.

“Give me your phone.” T.J. was surprised with how Cyrus handed it over with no hesitation and was even more surprised when the phone unlocked immediately.

He quickly typed in his number and sent himself a text. “Now you can reach me. Whenever you want, I'll be there, promise.” Cyrus smiled softly as he took his phone back. “Thanks, T.J.” T.J. smiled back and with it, he finally felt the last of his guilt grow into a solid strength inside of him that would forever be connected to Cyrus.

-

T.J. was making his usual straightforward path to the muffins in the cafeteria when he felt his phone vibrate. Not one to get texts, he quickly pulled it out of his pocket and read the text he had been waiting almost a week for.

_Could you get me a chocolate chocolate chip muffin please?_

T.J. smiled and noticed there were only three muffins left and rushed to grab one. Ignoring the grumbling behind him, he looked around the cafeteria and finally noticed Cyrus sitting at a table with the two girls and some other boy he didn’t know.  He held up the muffin and Cyrus beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue: they go to the gay parade and yell gay rights while holding hands
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
